


Pride & Possession.

by HobbitTales



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, John is a gentleman, Loralei is a sassy lady, M/M, Mycroft sticks his nose in, Sherlock is an arse and possessive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:43:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitTales/pseuds/HobbitTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loralei Holmes. The youngest sister who could give Elizabeth Bennet a run for her money; has rejected and shamed fifteen suitors already. Enter John Watson, good looking, wealthy and a doctor to boot. There’s just one small problem. Sherlock Holmes has decided that John Hamish Watson, his sister's suitor, is far more suited for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride & Possession.

  
**Pride and Possession**.

_Loralei Holmes. The youngest sister who could give Elizabeth Bennett a run for her money; has rejected and shamed fifteen suitors already. Enter John Watson, good looking, wealthy and a doctor to boot. There’s just one small problem. Sherlock Holmes has decided that John Hamish Watson, his sister's suitor, is far more suited for him._

"Milly, pass me the cream please." Loralei Holmes asked politely, her hands shaking slightly as she grasped the small jug between her nimble fingers. Millicent Andrews, the youthful (and sometimes clumsy) maid, looked at her superior curiously. "Mam, maybe it's not my place to ask but, are you well?"

Loralei waved a hand in the air, dismissing the question mid-flight. "Fine, fine. Mr Watson will be arriving here shortly as you aware; I'm awfully confused as to why I feel so very nervous."

She pursed her lip slightly before biting the lower and shaking her head. "Such nonsense. Millicent, please will you fetch Sherlock for me? I feel his abrupt attitude with shake me from being so utterly ridiculous."

Millicent sighed sadly. She placed the tea-tray carefully on the coffee table before wandering out of the living room.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It did not take her a long time to find Sherlock; he was in his usual place, brooding over whatever occupied his mind at the time. Millicent remembered to bow politely before speaking. Out of all the Holmes, Sherlock was violently strict on mannerisms and etiquette.

"The lady Holmes wishes to speak to you." Sherlock did not turn his head, and Millicent bit her lip nervously.

"Um, si-" He raised a hand "I heard you." He muttered rudely, uncrossing his dangerously long legs and standing abruptly, causing young Millicent to jump in her skin. "Your hands are slightly red; your palms are sweaty, slight indents across the bridge of your fingertips, I trust you have been holding a tray for a short period of time." Millicent nodded cautiously.

"My dear sister is in the living area?" It was not a question. Another nod. Sherlock ran his slim fingers through his raven curls before curtly nodding at the shaking maid and pacing slowly to the living area.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Upon arrival, Loralei was sitting anxiously in the maroon armchair which would have been previously occupied by their father if he was still alive. Loralei examined her brother's behavior inquisitively before gesturing him to seat himself opposite her.

"As you are aware, Mr Watson will be arriving shortly Sherlock I- I find myself very scared."

Sherlock threw a look of exasperation at her statement. "Naturally" he drawled out sarcastically. Noticing his sister's discomfort he added,

"Loralei, the man will probably be within his mid-twenties, wealthy no doubt, a cat and a few horses for you to ride until dawn, you will live a life of luxury, not that you do not already. The Watsons and Holmes are prestigious families in society; do not meddle in their affairs with your petty ignorance towards men."

Loralei narrowed her eyes dangerously. "If I am aware, there are not one but two Watson men, his older brother Harry. “She spat the next sentence out with such force she could have sworn she felt the words almost choke her

“What if I am to wed him? He is a disgusting, vile rodent of a man." She shuddered, her fists clenched so tightly that they began to turn white.

Sherlock, oblivious to his sister’s discomfort chuckled slightly, pouring himself a tipple of whiskey and swirling is casually in the crystal glass before downing it in a simple shot.

"Harry Richard Watson is an intriguing man; no doubt his brother will be also."

Loralei glanced at her apathetic brother and sighed dramatically. "Sometimes I wish I lived down in the town with the lower-class. They may not have wealth, but they have happiness and that is something I desire above any golden coin."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose at the thought of living in a lower-class environment. "I would not wish that upon anybody, especially you Loralei." He peered at his watch and clicked his tongue to his cheek.

"Mycroft will be arriving within minutes; you must ready yourself to be introduced to Doctor Watson. Surely you cannot meet your potential husband-to-be in such an unattractive state"

He assessed her plain grey summer-dress that fell to her knees gracefully, it was modest around the bust and the frills were neither over-bearing or completely subtle. It was a dress of maturity, and her mother had loved it immensely.

Staring down at her attire, she furrowed her brow. “Maybe I wish for him to see me as I am. Naturally.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow playfully “Indeed, if you wish for him to run from London to Scotland.”

Loralei stuck her tongue out childishly and teasingly flicked her fingers against Sherlock’s forehead before returning to her bedroom, several maids in tow.

Sherlock groaned. The whole courting business was far more tedious than he had imagined. He was aware he should feel relieved for his younger sister, happen even. But something did not sit right in his stomach, the fact that his innocent sister who was the epitome of purity, was going to be forcibly courted by a stranger whom would then marry her, bed her and then take her away to the other side of the country, visiting only on special occasions such as the yearly dance and Christmas.

He was shaken from his thoughts when he heard the carriage outside, the soft click of hooves on the gravel and the slam of the carriage door being closed.

He straightened his suit uncomfortably, preparing his false façade of happiness and ‘allow me to be your friend’ attitude. All of those hidden emotions were buried, caged and forcibly stepped on until Sherlock opened the door, and everything flew out of the window.

Mycroft was no surprise, obviously. His crisp suit was picture-perfect and his mouth set in a firm line of authority and superiority. But standing beside him was a man only slightly younger than himself, a rather delicious and muscular young man with the most striking blue eyes he had ever seen. His ash blonde hair was styled back attractively, framing the contours of his face. He had a slim nose and minuscule frown lines around his face; obviously his work as a doctor was stressful beyond belief and noting the torn nail-beds, he was either bored or constantly distressed during the day. 

Sherlock also observed that his left shoulder sagged ever so slightly to the side, the rest of his posture however, highlighted his confidence through and through and he carried himself as a upper-class male should, or a soldier.

Army surgeon, Sherlock noted. Interesting.

He raised an eyebrow in question, Mycroft shrugged. “We happened to pass each other in London; I suggested he ride in my carriage as we were headed towards the same place. John Hamish Watson, or Doctor Watson as he is fondly known in his town. This is my younger sibling, Sherlock Holmes.”

The man in question blushed under his scrutinizing gaze, holding a hand out feebly and bringing himself to look directly at the taller man. “Mr Holmes, pleasure.” Sherlock took his hand firmly, banishing the thoughts of how soft they were for a doctor, his deductions be damned.

“Just Sherlock, please.” he replied dryly.

John nodded nervously “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Just Sherlock” he replied cheekily with a dazzling smile that left Sherlock’s palms sweaty and his heart rate racing.

Sherlock clenched his teeth and furiously rubbed his palms across his trousers when John had turned his back slightly. Pathetic.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and proceeded to cough over-dramatically, breaking the moment.

“Shall we proceed to the living area where you can introduce yourself to your potential bride, Doctor Watson?” John gave a swift nod and shot a small grin at Sherlock before following the eldest Holmes into the grand estate.

Sherlock scowled. The disgustingly foreign swell of jealously in his gut was almost tangible. He deduced an instant interaction between himself and the shorter man. His mind illustrated how Doctor Watson was definitely suited for him rather than his younger sibling.

Though Sherlock wasn’t entirely sure why that was or what created such an attraction, the sparks of electricity that fizzled between them as they locked gazes across the path was yet to remain a mystery.

Maybe it was because the young doctor had those inviting soft blue orbs that were almost smoldering. Sherlock was drawn to those precious gems like a moth to a flame, and he predicted that such an interest in this man would create the same disastrous consequences.

But Sherlock Holmes always did enjoy playing with fire.

 **Coming up:** John meets Loralei, Sherlock acts like a spy, Mycroft is not amused.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello sweeties!
> 
> This is my FIRST published fanfiction, so put away your flamethrowers. Although, constructive criticism is always welcomed with open arms and a cuppa.  
> \- Sherlock is not mine, that right belongs to Mofftiss and the BBC. I only own my characters. (If it was my show, It wouldn't be for family viewing, trust me)
> 
> I'm a wee bit of a punctuation whore, so if you see punctuation where it shouldn't be, I apologise. I probably got comma happy as usual. 
> 
> A big thank you to my twitter followers for giving the confidence I needed to post this.
> 
> The rating MAY go up depending on which direction I take this story. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *turns computer off and runs screaming down the road.*


End file.
